"Sweet ride. How'd you get it?" came up at lunch at the hockey table; they were eating there together after spending a couple days split up and among girlfriends. 

"Surprise early christmas gift," Jared said, but he didn't want to really delve into his childhood with Gabe; Gabe never had to want for anything and it didn't seem like a good time to really bring it all up. Carl understood because his family was poorer and he had to pay for his own car, and it's probably why he and Carl were tighter than he and the rest of the team, though they were buddied up enough. A lot of these guys grew up together, and Jared was a more recent arrival to Buchanan.

"Hell of a gift," Kluge muttered, "My parents get me sweaters."

"You can always wear them to a cheesy sweater party," Kozlow pointed out.

"That's a thing?"

"It can be, after the Winter Formal," Gabe pointed out, "our parties are starting to look like the football parties. Do you have any what I had to clean up out of my place last weekend? It was kind of gross. I don't get how Ricki even puts up with it."

"Congratulations, by the way," Jared said.

There was, of course, David Livingston, shooting everyone glances from his table. Football had a table still, even though the season was over, and it was like a corner table convenient to the cafeteria food line, whereas the Hockey table was still where it existed previously, somewhere on the fringe of cool people territory, though it seemed to be getting more traffic. Cheerleader table was right there, but Jared wasn't sure he really liked socializing with the Cheerleaders as much as one might think; some of the conversations there were slightly vicious and it was jarring to kind of see the rumored cheerleader insecurity in action. It wasn't directly applied to him, but Ricki Trenton got badmouthed a lot over there, and it was hard to sort of sit there and not go, 'wait a second, you girls have it all really wrong.' 

It was part of the reason he was taking a break; he didn't give that reason to Heather, but he just pointed out that the hockey team were wondering what she'd done with the real Jared. He also felt slightly underdressed; Livingston was there wearing slacks and a button down and Gabe had chinos and a sweater, though he kept the top button of a striped oxford fashionably undone, but Jared still did jeans and t-shirts. It wasn't an entirely unprecedented look, but he generally felt that a good t-shirt looked good; he'd also spent too much time in a Catholic school with uniform requirements. The school dress code allowed a guy to wear jeans and a t-shirt, so he stuck to it.

"Yeah, well I guess we were both in a weird place and were going to go stag, so she asked me and I accepted. Things were...I dunno, I guess we're giving it a try because the timing's right and there's always been a thing there," Gabe said.

"So what's this thing we're doing with Hector South, anyway? I mean, Wednesday practice says, 'Go to the AV lab."

"No idea."

The question was answered when the team showed up at Wednesday practice for the AV lab.

"It's a project of Mr. South's, but I wanted to do a spot where the hockey team thanks the school for turning out at the game last weekend," Coach Dubois said, "because we can't take the support of the school for granted," except that football sometime did, "and I want you guys to remember why you're doing this and have a sense of humility about it. That means thanking your supporters. I mean, it's a bye week, so I'm taking it easy on you guys. You earned your relaxation the hard way, but after the Winter Formal, we're going right back into the grind, so don't get too cozy."

It was actually a better than usual thing; Jared got a couple lines like, "The team isn't just us. It's the school, it's you" or "And fellas, your Winter Formal corsage: Don't leave home without it."

That was at the end of a variety of messages about not drinking, wearing protection and all the other embarassing topics; they got to choose, among themselves, who had to make the most amusing announcements, like the ones involving sexual activity and drinking, and Jared didn't really win any of those competitions. Instead, he had to hold up a sign with the number and web address of a place that did corsages at the last minute, for people who totally forgot. But he got a kick out of it, because it felt a bit like an American Express commercial. 

Hector said it'd run on Friday, which seemed to be coming at them very fast. Thursday went with little to show for it besides getting in a weight lifting session where guys pretty much expressed confusion over a number of things related to the dance; mode of dress, what was acceptable mens' fashion, the women and other etiquette concerns. Heck, the corsage, that came into play -- guys forgetting stuff left and right but remembering to buy condoms, just in case.

"Where's the afterparty, anyway?" Carl asked, and that got people wondering.

"Colt Trenton's in town with Andy and Darren, not sure the party's going to happen there, and my parents will be around," Gabe told them, "but don't worry. Someone will have an afterparty. You guys just need to make sure to go easy on the pregame and keep it cool during the dance, and then the real party starts once we get the ties off. But if you're really worried, you can have Jared ask Heather."

That was said with a bit of a grin shot at Jared, who grimaced back while half-way through a bench set.'

"I honestly didn't think that far ahead, Gabe. I'm usually not told these things ahead of time anyway."

"I'm the one that has to worry about not being told, dude."

"Why's that?"

"You don't know?" Gabe asked, wonderingly.

Jared was getting tired of that -- Tasha and now Gabe. It's like they had inside information on Heather Voss that they didn't quite want to share. So he glanced at Carl.

"Trenton and Voss, competition. You know, girl thing. Over Livingston."

"Bingo," Gabe said.

"That makes no sense."

"Well, I guess grudges don't go away that easy. This one dates back a couple years ago."

He got his weights down on the rest and shook his head, "Well, I'll just have to watch out then."

---

So the first thing that he heard in the morning surprised him. After a good morning kiss, which was a nice way to be greeted, though he avoided doing the tongue thing with Heather's sister, Julie, a sophomore, in the back seat, he got asked: "It's okay if we stop over at Ricki Trenton's on friday before the dance, right? She apparently wants to get photographs of everyone and their date," Heather told him in the car, Thursday morning. 

"Yeah, sure, it's cool so long as you're good with it." 

Carl was back to driving his own car, and he was giving Heather a ride because she wanted to see the vehicle for herself; almost as if she were inspecting it for suitability. He couldn't think of what was wrong with a mustang, because it was a pretty hot looking car, slightly darker red than usual and with a removable hardtop that could make it a convertible in the summertime. Cali weather was good, but not quite that good in late November to accomodate it. "Wow, it's kind of small, though."

"Are you kidding," Julie said, bubbling, "That's a hot car any way you look at it." Julie, at least, was a little more enthusiastic about the car than Heather was; sure, the seats were a bit small and the car was a bit small, but it was a Mustang, and a classic Mustang at that. She had family resemblance to her sister, but a different personality -- younger and a not quite all grown up yet, and she wasn't going to be attending the dance.

"Yeah, well it's mostly engine, two seats and a minimal backseat, so I hope you don't mind the legroom in back there," Jared told her. The suspension was good on the car, and the engine had been recently refurbished, so the thing purred, "The only downside to it is that it's not very fuel efficient, but I'll survive, somehow."

Anyway, it was a car that strutted a bit. One of the things that shocked Jared to his core upon coming here was the number of BMW's, Audis and other German cars sitting in the parking lot of a high school. If not that, stuff that was racy, Japanese and tuned up-looking. Some guys had trucks, varying sizes. There were a couple older muscle cars running around, Jared wasn't the only one, but it was a little more pedestrian and working class to be crazy about things like the old Chevelle's, Mustangs and GTO's.

Jared didn't really care, he was happy enough with the whole thing, practically glowing as he showed it off a bit. Heather, very obviously, wasn't a car person, but she could at least see that the car was kept very clean. "Oh wow, cool, thank god the radio's a modern system. How do I get it to play..."

Jared would have gone for a different music choice than Arianna Grande, but it was one of those things you had to just put up with when you were outvoted. His mom was from the era when Alice in Chains, Pearl Jam and Nirvana were doing their thing, but he bounced between a variety of music types.

Somehow, Heather messed it up and got Waylon Jennings and his smooth voice singing, "Low down leavin' sun..." 

"Oh, ew, turnitoff, turnitoff..." moaned Julie, while Jared grinned.

The day passed quickly, complete with the announcements and the public service announcement from the hockey team. By the time school let out, no one was lingering, so Jared had Heather and Julie back in the car and home about twenty minutes after the final bell rang, when usually people would spend a little time socializing or be in practice. "5:30, and to the Trenton house, right?"

"Yes," Heather said, with a kiss, this time with a bit of tongue added, "See you then, baby."

--

Pre-dance, the ritual was easier for dudes -- showering, shaving, cleaning ears, trimming nails. Little things, but they counted. The hair had to be done a bit more carefully, but he went with blow drying and a comb, which felt weird but seemed to work; he watched a barber do it once and knew that it produced results. The sport coat matched his eye color a bit, complementing rather than mirroring, and the slightly darker shirt, light blue, gave him less of a washed out look with the blonde hair. The contrast from the tie helped set it off, even with the darker gray pants. It wasn't a suit, which a lot of guys were going for, but something a little more casual, and perhaps that said 'social' rather than 'stuffy formal social.' 

There were little rituals of meeting the Voss family and presenting the corsage, but Mr. Voss seemed to loosen up considerbly when Jared showed up in well dressed and looked like he meant business, rather than being some douche. He made polite conversation, including the inevitable, "I didn't think Buchanan hockey was going to be that good" and questions about Massachusetts, which he answered politely, bringing the Catholic schoolboy manners to the table. There was car talk; his daughter didn't appreciate the Mustang for what it was, but Paul Voss made Jared pop the hood so he could admire it and practically measured the wheels himself. "Christine made me sell my Porsche when we had Julie," he explained as he gestured diffidently toward a Mercedes.

"Apparently, I'm not supposed to say this sort of thing but make sure you bring my daughter home alive, or I'll have to hunt you down and feed you to grizzlies," Mr. Voss joked with a wink. "Other than that, enjoy the dance and the party afterward. Just be safe and if you guys are too wasted to drive, just leave a text telling us where you're laying up at."

That blew him away a bit -- a carte blanche to basically do drugs and drink and do whatever. California had way different attitudes than other places. In Mass, a whole different set of mores applied, but that was fine.

When they finally got clear, Heather in a red dress that showed off shoulder and arm definition to her advantage, they were slightly early to the Trenton residence, but Colt Trenton came right out into the driveway as he pulled in. "Now that," he said appreciatively, "Is a goddamned car, son. You must be Jared, we've heard quite a bit about you."

Needless to say, he had to pop the hood again.